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Mag. Did he strike you with a stick ? Pat. No, my lord, it was a small taste of a poker. Mag. A poker! What a dreadful murderous weapon. Pat. Arrah ! sure your holiness, it is indeed, indeed. Mag. Where were you when this happened ? Pat. Where was I sure I was in bed. Mag. Asleep or awake. Pat. As sound as a roach, your majesty. Mag. And what provocation had you given him. Pat. Divil a provocation at all, most noble. How could I when I was dead drunk asleep?

Mag. What! do you mean to say he came to your bedside, and struck you in this dreadful manner without cause ?

Pat. Yes, your mightiness—barring he came to his own bedside instead of mine.

Mag. His own bedside ! were you in his bed ?
Pat. Faith, you have just guessed it, your rivirince.
Mag. And what brought you there?

Pat. That's more than I can tell, your honour, barring it was the liquor.

Mag. Was this all you did to provoke his anger ?
Pat. Divil a thing else.
Mag. Was there any other person present?
Pat. Not a crature-independent of his wife, dat was in bed
with me, your grace.

Mag. His wife ! were you in bed with his wife ?
Pat. In course I was, your worship !
Mag. And don't you think you deserved what you got ?
Pat. Is it me? Not I, indeed, it was all a mistake.
Mag. Mistake!

Pat. Yes, I thought it was my own wife in the dark, I went into the room in a mistake !

Mag. Well, I hope you committed no other mistake. "You. must be careful in future. I cannot grant you a warrant.

Pat. Thank your majesty. If he hits me agin it shall go for something. By my soul, I will give him a crack that will knock him into the middle of next weck. So an illigant good day to your mightiness.

Pulling up his unmentionables, he hopp'd off in a real Irish trot.

It turned out that Paddy went into the bed unconscious of where he was, till Barney gave him a gentle hint with the poker, and fortunately his skull was thick enough to resist the intended finisher. Barney's sleeping beauty was also awoke by the shock, who gave her tender assistance in larruping the intruder out of the chamber of her lord and master.

THE ARAB'S FAREWELL TO HIS HORSE.

(A Favourite Recitation.)

My beautiful! my beautiful! that standest meekly by,
With thy proudly arch'd and glossy neck, and dark and fiery eye,
Fret not to roam the desert now with all thy winged speed,
I may not mount on thee again, thou art sold, my Arab steed,
Fret not with that impatient hoof, snuff not the breezy wind
The further that thou fliest now, so far am I behind.
The stranger hath thy bridle rein-thy master hath his gold-
Fleet limbed and beautiful, farewell, thou’rt sold, my steed, thou'rt sold.
Farewell! these free untired limbs full many a mile must roam,
To reach the chill and wintry sky, which clouds the stranger's home.
Some other hand, less fond, must now thy corn and bed prepare-
The silky mane I braided once, must be another's care.
The morning sun shall dawn again, but never more with thee
Shall I gallop through the desert paths where we were wont to be.
Evening shall darken on the earth, and o'er the sandy plain,
Some other steed, with slower step, shall bear me home again.
Yes, thou must go, the wild free breeze, the brilliant sun and sky,
Thy master's home, from all of these my exiled one must fiy.
Thy proud dark eye will grow less proud, thy step become less fleet,
And vainly shalt thou arch thy neck, thy master's hand to meet.
Only in sleep shall I behold that dark eye glancing bright;
Only in sleep shall hear again that step so firm and light;
And v:hen I raise my dreaming arm, to check and cheer thy speed,
Then must I startling wake, to feel thou'rt sold, my Arab steed.
Ah! rudely then, unseen by me, some cruel hand may chide,
Till foam wreaths lie, like crested waves, along thy panting side,
And the rich blood that is in thee swells in thy indignant pain;
Till careless eyes, which rest on thee, may count each started vein.
Will they ill use thee? If I thought—but no it cannot be
Thou art so swift, yet easy curbed, so gentle, yet so free.
And yet, if haply when thou’rt gone, my lonely heart should yearn,
Can the hand which casts thee from it, now command thee to return.
Return, alas ! my Arab steed, what shall thy master do,
When thou who wert his all of joy hath vanished from his view;
When the dim distance cheats mine eye, and through the gathering tears,
Thy bright form for a moment like the false Mirage appears,
Slow and unmounted will I roam, with weary foot alone,
Where with fleet step and joyous bound, thou oft has borne me on.
And sitting down by that green well, I'll pause and sadly think,
It was here he bowed his glossy neck when last I saw him drink.
When last I saw thee drink? Away! the fevered dream is o'er,
I could not live a day, and know that we should meet no more.
They tempted me, my beautiful! for hunger's power is strong,
They tempted me, my beautiful! but I have loved too long,

Who said that I'd giv'n thee up, who said that thou wert sold ?
'Tis false, 'tis false, my Arab steed, I fling them back their gold ;
Thus, thus, I leap upon thy back, and scour the distant plains,
Away, who overtakes us now, shall claim thee for his pains.

HE VOS A VERY JONTEEL MAN FOR ALL DAT. (A celebrated French Recitation, as originally given by Mr. Melvin,

Mr. Mathews, fc.) MAIS! I am Monsieur Jean Francois Marie Louis Grenoble. In Angletere here, I vas vat you call de emigrant; because in the revolution, ma foi ! ven my countree, dat I love so much, vant to cut off my head, I take to my feet, and ran avay very fast, so dat de guillotine, by gar, can no cut short my valk over de sea-not at all. Here I make de montre, vat you call de vatch. I am de horloger, de clock maker, and get de living by de tick. Mais dans Paris-in my own countree I vas very large man indeed, vas nobleman, vas son altesse de Prince Grenoble, and stood very high indeed (though I am but a little man now) in de grand Armee Royal.

De other day I vas valk in vat you call your High Park, vere dere are no bucks vid de horns, but de bucks dat come from do Londres de city, and leave dere wives to valk here; and no deer, but the pretty little girls, and parbleu, dey are very dear indeed, pretty indeed, very. Vell, I vas valk dere, and see sit on de bench for vast de call to dine vid dey Duke Humphrey, un pauvre homme; he seem very hungry, very cold; he looked very dirty, very ragged, and very poor indeed—but he appear a very jonteel man for all dat.

go to him, and I say to him—for I see in de twinkle of de eye he vas von Frenchman-vas my countreman-mon ami, my friend, my countreman, for vat you sit on dis bench here, to dine vid de Duke Humphrey ? vy you no go to de cook-shop de restaurateur, vere dey eat de beef and de mouton, and de sallad, and de pomme de terre ?

He say to me, 'I am brave Francois—I am jontilehommeI am one of de first men in all France—but I am sans souis, point d'argent; I have not one single farthing dans tout le monde; not a halfpenny in all de world, and no credit at all.

Den he shew me his pockets filled vid very large holes, but nothing else; but he appear very jonteel man for all dat; and all at once, immediately, directly, instamment, in de half second, I recollect to have seen him in Paris, dress in all de silver and de gold lace.—Jontilhomme or noble, I forgot vhich, but it vas all de same.

I look at him again-ma foi ! he have no lace but de

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